


cotton candy

by vitasoy (lunawhy)



Category: UNINE (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV), 青春有你 | Qing Chun You Ni
Genre: Bondage, Degradation, Humiliation, M/M, Mild Painplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, dom!zhenning, feet but it's not feet kink, sub!mingming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunawhy/pseuds/vitasoy
Summary: “Look at you.” Zhenning is approaching him, running a hand over his own silk tie and stretching it taut. Even without smiling, Zhenning’s expression is inviting, charming, and warm, but when a sly look crosses over his face and causes the corners of his lips to curl up, he becomes even more charismatic.





	cotton candy

“How would your daddy react,” Zhenning begins, hooking two fingers around the knot of his tie and pulling, “if he saw his precious son like this?” He says it so casually, it’s as if he was relaying the traffic conditions on his way to work that morning.

Mingming is already beginning to sweat though, the anticipation building in his blood and causing his face and body to heat up. He’s hunched over, watching Zhenning through the bits of his bangs that hang over his vision, mouth dry.

“Look at you.” Zhenning is approaching him, running a hand over his own silk tie and stretching it taut. Even without smiling, Zhenning’s expression is inviting, charming, and warm, but when a sly look crosses over his face and causes the corners of his lips to curl up, he becomes even more charismatic. It causes Mingming’s blood to rush even faster, and he licks his lips, trying to re-wet them, but his tongue is too dry.

“You’re useless for practically everything except sitting here and looking pretty. And even then, the only thing you’re actually good at is taking orders.” Zhenning is deceitful. His tone is sweet and caring, as if he was showering Mingming with compliments. It makes Mingming’s blood boil -- not with anger, but with _excitement._ This is what he loves about Zhenning.

Zhenning leans down until his lips are hovering right next to Mingming’s ear. The hairs on the back of Mingming’s neck rise, and a shiver quickly runs down his spine.

“That’s right,” Zhenning whispers while pressing Mingming’s wrist against one arm of the chair he’s sitting in. It’s the last limb Zhenning needs to tie down. “You’re nothing but a pretty little plaything. Your only purpose is to be _used_. And you love that, don’t you?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Mingming hisses through his teeth. He hangs off of every single one of Zhenning’s words like he’s an excited pet, and Zhenning is his owner. At this point, maybe in some way Zhenning _does_ own him. Even though in the corporate world Mingming is supposed to be the boss, but that was never the case in the first place. From the very beginning Zhenning has had power over him, has been able to control him, makes his knees weak, his vision blurry, and his skin hot with just the right words and actions.

“You’re so easy too. I haven’t done _anything_ and you’re already hard.”

Mingming nods. He swallows, and his throat is so dry, it’s painful. His temple is already beginning to shine with sweat, and sure enough, all his blood is flowing to his crotch, evident by his erection straining against the thin cloth of his slacks.

“Do you want me to play with you?” Mingming can hear the smile in Zhenning’s voice. Before he can reply, Zhenning is kissing the junction of his jaw, pulling softly with teeth, and one of Zhenning’s palms cups the bulge in Mingming’s pants, applying light pressure.

“ _Y-Yes,_ oh _please,_ ” Mingming can barely moan out. His hips want to thrust forward automatically, but with his legs tied in place, he can barely move.

Zhenning moves away, and Mingming lets out a groan of frustration. Zhenning’s only response is a hum of satisfaction. He lifts himself up onto Mingming’s desk, swinging his legs back and forth in a playful manner with that deceitful smile on his face again.

“My game, my rules,” he states.

Mingming nods. He squeezes his eyes shut, and a second later he can hear the sound of shoes hitting the carpet with a dull thud. Mingming waits, patient, and he lets out a breath he’d been holding when he feels Zhenning press his foot lightly against the inside of his knee.

“You present yourself so nicely,” Zhenning muses, running the side of his foot up and down the inside of Mingming’s thigh, “legs wide open just for me.” It’s not like Mingming can close his legs while his ankles are tied to the chair, and at the same time his body is reacting to Zhenning’s teasing, openly inviting Zhenning to touch him where he needs it most.

Sweat slides down Mingming’s face as Zhenning keeps on running his foot over Mingming’s thighs, stomach, and hips, always playfully skirting around Mingming’s crotch, and every single time Mingming feels Zhenning come close, he gets hopeful -- but Zhenning always fools him.

At the same time, Zhenning is laughing, softly murmuring things like “I wonder how long you’re going to last” and “I can’t wait to hear your voice moaning my name” just loud enough for Mingming to clearly hear, and quiet enough so that if someone were pressing their ear up against the outside of Mingming’s office door right now, they’d hear nothing.

Mingming’s patience is beginning to dwindle. His legs are jerking with every suggestive touch by Zhenning’s foot, and he lets out a little gasp every time Zhenning presses closer to his erection. He’s so hard by now that he feels slight pain, and he opens his mouth, ready to beg Zhenning to just _touch_ him.

But without warning, Zhenning places the flat of his foot against Mingming’s crotch, and Mingming cries out loud, voice choked.

“Shhhh, quiet,” Zhenning reprimands sweetly, “you wouldn’t want anyone else figuring out what’s happening, right? Or…” He pauses, pretending to think. “That’s exactly what you want. You want everyone else to come in here and see you solely at my mercy, gasping, moaning, crying out loud until you can only sob my name while you're being used and played with like a toy, because at the end of the day, that’s all you are: a _toy._ ”

Mingming’s vision is blurring, partially from the sweat dripping down in front of his eyes and partially from the pleasure blazing through his body. Zhenning increases the pressure of his foot, grinding down on Mingming’s crotch until Mingming feels noticeable pain. His instinct is to close his legs, but he obviously can’t, ankles straining against the belts that tie them to the chair, leather digging into his skin through the fabric of his pants and leaving red marks.

Zhenning presses down even harder, and Mingming has to put in so much effort to simply prevent himself from screaming. His body is writhing against the chair, clothing disheveled and sweat soaking his bangs from all the movement. He doesn’t know what he feels more now, pain or pleasure, but at this point it all is the same to him, and like some kind of addict, he’s a slave to the sensation. He wants to feel more and more of it rushing through his veins, wants Zhenning to press his foot down even harder, grind into Mingming’s crotch with the ball of his foot, and Mingming tries to chase that by trying to thrust forward his hips with so much effort that his thighs begin to hurt from the strain.

“My game, my rules,” Zhenning reminds, tone gentle. Mingming doesn’t need to look up to see that wicked smile on Zhenning’s face, because it’s clearly there in Zhenning’s voice. Zhenning changes his speed, moving to slow and long strokes up and down with the ball of his foot.

Mingming gasps, throwing his head back. His chest is heaving as he sucks in, desperate for air, and while his body slows along with Zhenning’s movements so that he’s no longer writhing around violently, his limbs still twitch erratically.

“I wish I could take a picture,” Zhenning absentmindedly thinks out loud. “You look absolutely beautiful like this.” If possible, Mingming’s face heats even more. “Another time, though. I’m definitely not anywhere near done with you yet.”

Mingming sucks in a breath, Zhenning’s words once again making his entire body flush. Both his mind and body are going crazy, Zhenning starting up his teasing once again, grazing Mingming’s crotch with the flat of his foot over and over. Mingming has completely lost the ability to process thought, especially when Zhenning gradually applies pressure directly onto Mingming’s erection.

Zhenning begins to rub with his foot, just going in slow and thorough up and down motions. Mingming was already so worked up from before that his body reacts with even less control now. He’s visibly shaking, numb to every single sensation affecting his body at the moment except for the stimulation from Zhenning’s foot.

When Zhenning begins to increase the speed of his movements, Mingming’s hold over his own voice cracks. A string of moans break from his voice, and his eyes begin to roll to the back of his head. His chest is pressed forward and up, his back straining as it arches to a painful degree.

He feels the heat pulsing in his lower stomach, searing and intense as it builds with every move from Zhenning. Every second he cries out again, louder and louder each time, to the point where anyone that happened to pass by his office door right at that moment would be able to hear him.

It’s the signal to the onset of an orgasm. His body is rearing for it each moment, and just when the corners of his vision begin to waver and blacken, Zhenning pulls away his foot.

“No,” Mingming sobs, gaping his mouth wide open and gasping for air, strings of saliva dripping down from his lips.

“Remember, we’re playing by my rules.” Zhenning hops off of Mingming’s desk. His bare feet make no noise against the carpet. He approaches Mingming from behind and leans down until his lips are right next to Mingming’s ear. “Even though one of my favorite things to do is watch you come,” he teases, “I only like it if it happens on my watch. Understand?”

Mingming nods rapidly. His heart is beating so fast that the thumping in his ears almost completely drowned out Zhenning’s voice. He can barely form a coherent reply. “I-I understand,” he croaks, voice raspy.

Zhenning hums, pleased. He places a hand on Mingming’s cheek and turns Mingming’s head so he can connect their lips. Mingming melts into Zhenning’s touch, chasing Zhenning’s taste like a drunk with his last drop of alcohol. Zhenning kisses him slowly, deeply, holding Mingming’s head in place with a firm hand, playing a different kind of roughness than previously.

Zhenning’s other hand is sliding down Mingming’s chest, all the way down to Mingming’s belt buckle, fingers hovering there for several seconds. Disconnecting their lips, Zhenning rises so he can set his chin atop Mingming’s head and rest a hand on Mingming’s shoulder. He feels Mingming shudder against him the moment his hand presses against the other's bulge, feeling its curve and thickness in his palm.

Mingming’s legs tense incredibly, ankles straining against their restraints. He squeezes his eyes shut, head leaning back, breaths labored as Zhenning palms him through his pants. Even through fabric Mingming can feel every single bit of Zhenning’s hand, all the way from Zhenning’s fingers fitted perfectly over the curve of his dick, to the teasing speed and pressure of Zhenning’s palm.

Mingming whimpers, and even though he knows it’s useless anyways, his body automatically tries to thrust his hips up into Zhenning’s touch. Zhenning smiles into Mingming’s hair and for once indulges Mingming by pressing in harshly with his palm.

That action elicits a sharp moan from Mingming, his body shaking violently. He begins to gasp for air, the pleasure coursing in his veins causing his breathing to become rapid and shallow.

“I love playing with you,” Zhenning murmurs, his hand absolutely and utterly ruthless. “You’re the perfect little slut, always so horny and desperate.”

Mingming shivers at Zhenning’s words. His cheeks and ears are burning in embarrassment, but that heat is fueling the blood rushing in his veins and the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. Not only does he crave Zhenning’s touch, but he also craves Zhenning’s words. He loves to hear Zhenning speak to him like that, voice dripping with the sweetest poison Mingming has ever tasted. Maybe he could ask for more, but he can't even control his breathing, let alone his words.

Zhenning doesn’t change his pace at all even despite Mingming’s increasingly labored breaths and squirming. A slew of whimpers leaves Mingming’s lips, and they soon turn into shaky groans and moans. “I love that too,” Zhenning comments at a particularly high and stretched whine from Mingming, “I love hearing your voice like that. Say my name, just like that.”

“Z-Zhenning,” Mingming whines, obeying, and Zhenning begins to stroke harder.

“Again,” Zhenning demands.

“Z-Z-Zhen-- _oh--_ ” Mingming’s voice is cut short, choked, the pleasure playing a game with every single aspect of his self-control, and he is very obviously losing. “Z-Z-Zhenning,” he manages out with a gasp.

Zhenning won’t stop. He’s stroking Mingming long and hard, and at this point Mingming is becoming so focused on the sensations coursing up and down his body that he’s forgetting Zhenning’s name, and any attempt at saying Zhenning’s name turns into a garbled string of syllables. His vision is wavering again. He can’t keep it up for much longer, there’s too much pleasure gathering in his crotch, and he’s lost all of his coherent thought.

The next cry of his is particularly loud, the sound seeming to echo, a reminder of how much power Zhenning has over him. Several long seconds later and the edges of his vision begin to blacken.

Zhenning, able to read the signs of Mingming’s body, chuckles quietly. “Not bad,” he muses. “Come for me, Mingming.”

Mingming lets out a choked sob, his body trembling violently, Zhenning’s approval the last thing he needed to take him over the edge. His vision completely blacks out save for a rainbow of fireworks going off in front of his eyes. The orgasm takes its time coursing through his body, lighting every single nerve of his on fire, making his entire body go hard and tense, and for those seconds, he is completely at the mercy of pleasure.

Once he calms down, he intakes a shaky breath, opening his eyes slowly and blinking the spots out of his vision. The first thing he notices is the sound of his own breathing, shallow and fast -- too fast, in fact, and he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“You were really worked up, huh?” Zhenning asks quietly. His tone, while still sweet, has lost most of its sly quality. “You came in your pants. It normally takes more to do that to you.”

Mingming coughs, shaking his head. “I keep a change of clothing in the largest drawer on the left side of my desk,” he says weakly.

“Okay,” Zhenning replies. Mingming can’t see him, but he can feel Zhenning’s strong presence behind him. “But let’s not think about changing immediately.”

Mingming swallows, nodding. He can practically hear what Zhenning is about to say next even before any words come out of Zhenning’s mouth.

“There’s still one other thing you’re going to do for me, my Mingming.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to my best babe c for proofreading


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